


May the Ficlets Be With You

by CaraLee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 50s au, AUs, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/M, Gen, Time Travel, mini-fics, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraLee/pseuds/CaraLee
Summary: Mini-fics and blurbs written mostly for Tumblr, usually in response to prompts. Not connected for the most part. Any warnings will be in the end chapter notes.





	1. Who Rescues Who? (Angsty Luke Being a Badass)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was for one character freeing another, killing someone, and overall angst, with the over-arching request of "angsty Luke being a badass"

_“Kid? Kid! Luke!”_

Everything is weird and swirly, like someone had taken a bunch of the colored sand that Esen used when he told stories in the Quarter at Anchorhead, and mixed it all together. Except Esen’s sands were warm browns, rich reds, and clear yellows. This was muddled, sickly greys and off-greens, like the Anchorhead Pens, except for one, warm spot not far away. (He thinks. It’s hard to tell what is near and what is far. Everything is all…floaty.)

“ _Skragg, Luke. What the hell’d they give you_?” The words sound farther away than the warm spot but for some reason he thinks they go together. They are both gold, like the rim around the horizon when the suns set. Then there are hands on him and he flinches back. Hands hurt, he remembers that. The warm gold flares hotly white for a moment and he cringes in the face of it.

The white banks itself into gold once more, though sharper than before. “ _Easy Luke, it’s just me. Let’s get you out of here_.”

The gold reaches out and wraps around him and this time when it touches the memory of the hurt fades away. Beyond the gold, flares of murky grey grow stronger and seethe, like the sand around the Pit. They want to hurt the gold.

He can’t let them. He reaches out to the grey through the swirls around the gold and pushes it away. Snuffs it out.

“ _Kriffing Sith-hells, kid!”_

A deep, rumbling groan; deep green and soft brown.

“ _Yeah, let’s get outta here, Chewie_. _He needs to detox ‘fore he decides we’re a danger too.”_

The green wraps around him and lifts him. He pulls the blue that is himself close and sinks into the green, chased by the welcoming darkness.

***

(When Luke wakes up he is nauseous from the remnants of the drug cocktail in his system and has no memory of any of the two days he spent in Imperial hands. Han never tells him or anyone else about the trail of bodies left behind.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Con drugging. Vague hints of torture. Lots of bad guys die in a non-graphic but rather disturbing way.


	2. Three Sentence Fics Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 1) Give me a pairing. 2) Give me an AU setting. 3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.

**Anidala, Beauty and the Beast AU?**

“Is there anything else, _my lord_?” Padmé says frostily, seated as regally as the queen she once was on the window seat.

The dark figure in the doorway hesitates, almost turns back around before squaring its shoulders in what she thinks might be determination, “MynameisAnakin!” And then he flees, there is no other word for it, and Padmé watches him go, refusing to allow her bewilderment to show on her face.

* * *

 

**Anakin & Ahsoka time travel **

Ahsoka doesn’t let herself stop and think, focusing on dragging her Master out of…wherever it is they are. Only once they are on a ship and safely away does she turn to Anakin with the demand, “What was that thing?”

“I think,” he stutters, still stunned and radiating loss and confusion, and she has never seen him look so much like he might throw up as he does now, “It felt like-like me.”

* * *

 

**Aayla Secura and Quinlan Voss, master/padawan or post master/padawan, Steampunk AU?**

“You know,” Aayla hissed, her fingers scrabbling to slip her lock-picks out of her headdress and into the lock despite being numb with the cold, “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t felt the need to break cover to defend my honor, I’m not your padawan anymore.”

Quinlan snorted disdainfully and threw his heavy coat over her scantily clad shoulders with theatrical flair, “First, our cover isn’t necessarily broken, they just think I’m very possessive; second, who said anything about defending your honor, maybe I just didn’t like his face?”

The mechanism clicked and they slipped out into the corridor.

* * *

 

**Anakin & Ahsoka, 1950s au?**

On the outside, the Skywalker household looks the very picture of idyllic perfection - sure Mr. Skywalker is missing an arm but everything else is so normal; Mrs. Skywalker is petite and beautiful and terrifying with her pearls and stilettos and the twins are lovely.

“Ahsoka, you’re here!” Ahsoka took in the scene before her; Mrs. Skywalker would have only left for work an hour or so earlier and already Skyguy looked ready to panic with baby food in his hair and engine grease smeared all over Luke’s face.

* * *

 

**Either Ahsoka or Leia, time travel (for the 3-sentence fic)?**

“You remind me of someone,” The young Togruta explains, squinting at Leia in a way that would make the last princess of Alderaan uncomfortable if she wasn’t used to scrutiny. 

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

“The best.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at starwarsbookshelf.tumblr.com


End file.
